


The Second First Night

by writelove



Series: The Prison Saga [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, basically this is the emo stuff we wont actually see, but like they'll obviously be a part of Jake and Rosa's first day back in real life, the squad is all featured in a minor way, when jake and rosa are released
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:20:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writelove/pseuds/writelove
Summary: Jake's first night home.Everything is different, but nothing has changed.It's perfect, though.





	The Second First Night

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are super appreciated bc I'm needy and desperate for attention !!

His knee shook in anticipation, waiting for the guards to come and get him from his cell. They’d been surprisingly kind to him ever since he’d been declared innocent, which had sparked an altercation between some of the inmates and himself. To say Jake was ill-liked in prison would be an understatement, but the treatment had only worsened in the past few days as his paperwork was processed for his impending release.

The wound above his right eye, held together by stitches, stings idly and the bruises that line his abdomen throb as he moves. He’s grateful Amy hadn’t been able to visit in the last couple days, she was too tied up in the appeal and getting everything ready for his return. She would have been so worried, he thinks. He knows she’ll be just as overwhelmed when she sees them that morning, but at least she won’t have to worry. He’ll be home.

It isn’t yet 8a.m when Officers McCarthy and Chen retrieve him from cell 098, and only a few of the other prisoners are awake. Luckily, they’re the well behaved ones and they make little noise, so to avoid waking the others as Jake makes his way out. He thanks them silently and hopes the guards notice the good behaviour too. Butterflies rush through his stomach and he turns his head back briefly to look at the cell he’s just left, god he hopes he never has to see the numbers 098 again. He can’t wait to be home.

The walk to the front of the prison is long and empty, but it isn’t as painful as the time he made the opposite trek. He recalls wondering if he’d have to spend an entire fifteen years locked up, away from home, away from Amy – he couldn’t have done that, he thinks, nine months was long enough. He’d already missed too much.

He doesn’t see her face at first; there is too much commotion in the lobby as the night officers get ready to leave and the day shift arrives to take their place. But then he sees her, and he thinks that he’ll remember that moment for the rest of his life. It hasn’t even been a week since she last came to visit, so nothing has changed much, but everything feels different. Her hair and her jacket is the same, but she wears a smile on her face and a light in her eyes that he hasn’t ever seen. Even when she visited to celebrate the win of the appeal, there was still a hesitation to her. Now, everything was real. He was going home and she was wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers and everything feels right.

“Jake,” She whispers as they finally pull away.

He pulls her head into his chest and buries his face in her hair, cringing as she squeezes his bruised body but not making the mistake of letting her see, “Thank you so much, Ames.”

They separate enough for her to look at him and she notices the stitches. Her hand travels up the side of his face and gently examines the wound, with tears welling in her eyes, “Jake,” she repeats sadly.

“I’m okay, Amy,” He promises.

“I love you, so much,” She finally utters.

For the first time in nine months, his smile reaches his eyes and he leans down to kiss his girlfriend again, “I love you too.”

 

He has to sign a few papers but they get out of there pretty quickly, relative to the fifteen years he was supposed to be there. The car ride is uncomfortable for Jake, the seat belt presses into his stomach and all he wants to do is stretch out his legs, but he can’t alarm Amy. Besides, he’s just grateful that he’s free. The sun warms his arm as it rests on the car door and bad pop music plays faintly on the radio, he hasn’t heard these songs before – and he hopes he’ll never have to again – but right now they’re perfect. He and Amy alternate between constant chatter and comfortable silence, but it’s never awkward. Jake recalls Florida and how long it took them to get back in sync and he’s grateful there’s no adjustment period this time.

She suggests getting breakfast. He hasn’t had pancakes in months, so he agrees and she pulls off the highway and into the crowded parking lot of some diner. It’s busy inside: teenagers skipping first period fill many of the booths, while college kids recovering from hangovers line the bar, and elderly couples sharing meals occupy the rest of the tables. The hostess informs them that it’ll be at least a 20 minute wait and they decide to wait in the car.

“I’m sorry we have to wait for your pancakes,” Amy apologizes.

Jake smiles, “20 minutes pales in comparison to 14 years.”

“And 2 months, 29 days,” she checks her watch, “7 hours.”

“You were counting too?” He asks.

Amy looks surprised, “Of course, but I kind of lost track last week after we won the appeal.”

“I didn’t stop. I couldn’t, just in case anything went wrong,” Jake admits sadly.

They’re silent for a few minutes before a sly grin crosses Amy’s face, “I have an idea to pass the time.”

His grin matches hers before their lips smash together and it’s messy – Jake bites Amy’s bottom lip and their teeth clash several times, but it’s exactly what they need. He tries to be gentle with her shirt at first, not wanting to stretch it before they go into the restaurant and give away their  activities, but he takes one look at the damage he’s already done by running his hands through her hair and realizes all bets are off. Her bra is lacy and dark grey, and he doesn’t recognize it. God, he wonders if she went out shopping for this very occasion – he’s grateful, but he would have loved it just as much if she’d come in her ratty blue t-shirt bra.

Amy whimpers as she yanks at his shirt and he can’t help but wince. Moments from the morning begin to piece themselves together and Amy realizes her boyfriend is hiding something from her. Gently, she unbuttons the soft plaid shirt he’d changed into in the prison bathroom and reveals the dark bruises that covered his body. Quickly, her hand jumps away and covers her mouth, shocked and saddened.

Tears welled in her eyes, “Jake?”

“I’m okay, Amy. I promise.” He reaches out to wipe the tears away and she clutches his hand, bringing it to rest on the console between them. They sit in silence, just enjoying each other’s company for the first time in so long. A loud alarm sounds, announcing an open table in the diner and interrupting their peace. It feels bittersweet, Amy thinks as she clambers to put her shirt back on, to get to go do something so normal, but to have to end their time alone.

 

The day passes quickly; it’s a stark contrast to the way the hours dragged on in prison, Jake recalls. But that cool, sunny Thursday in October is the shortest day of Jake’s life, and he loves every minute of it. When he and Amy arrive home, Terry and Charles are already waiting and both of them pull Jake into giant hugs. Gina had gone to pick up Rosa in the women’s prison in Buffalo, but they would arrive shortly and pick up Captain Holt on the way. He was down at head office, working to get the necessary approval to have Jake and Rosa reinstated. Laughter floated around the kitchen table as Charles and Terry flipped through photo albums of Nikolaj and Ava. It made Jake wonder what it would be like if he and Amy had a baby of their own.

The trio arrived in the middle of Ava’s second album with an exuberant dance number by Gina herself, so to introduce Rosa – who Jake could have sworn was blushing. He couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t sport a single scratch; of course she handled prison better than he. As he was welcomed back by Gina and Holt, Rosa embraced Amy, Terry and Charles, making an exception to her “no touching” rule. Finally, she found herself in front of Jake.

“I missed you man,” Rosa uttered before pulling her friend into a gentle hug, already warned of his injuries during her interaction with Amy.

Though he could never admit it out loud, Rosa had probably been the person he missed most, after Amy. The others had all come to visit him fairly regularly, and though it had never been the same at least he saw them, but it had been months since he last saw Rosa. Since leaving the academy, Jake didn’t think they’d ever even gone a week without each other. God, he’d missed her.

The squad sat in Jake and Amy’s living room for hours, passing around a stale bowl of chips and the frozen appetizers Amy had picked up from the store earlier that week. Once the sun had set and hunger had settled in their stomachs once again, the squad ordered Rosa’s favourite greasy pizza – Charles even approved – and donuts from the bakery Jake used to stop at for dinner on his way home from work. It would be a lie to say Jake didn’t crave comfort food while he was incarcerated, but Christ he’d vow to eat prison food for the rest of his life as long as he got to spend it with the people in that room.

They’d been hesitant, at first, to share stories of cool arrests and massive busts, but they soon settled into the ease that came with the closeness of family. Both Rosa and Jake were all too eager to live vicariously through their friends, and in turn they made light of the prison stories that were sure to haunt them in the months to come. It was easier that way, everyone figured, going about like nothing had changed, even when everything had. Perhaps, if they could laugh about their nine months in hell, it would be easier to escape its final grasp.

Just past midnight, the squad began to pack up their things and head out – most of them having to work the next morning. Everyone was slightly buzzed, but no one drunk enough to forget a second of that day. Jake hugged each of his friends goodbye and once again was overwhelmed with gratitude for the people that surrounded him, and his desire to fight crime with them again one day soon.

 

It’s no more than a half hour after the squad left when Jake wanders into his dearly missed bedroom late that night. Beer bottles still line the coffee table in the living room, but neither Jake nor Amy can bring themselves to clean them up. They’re far too concerned with one another to worry about a mess that’ll be there in the morning – the thought occurs to both of them that the other will be there in the morning too, for which they’re so grateful.

The soft grey t-shirt and blue jeans Jake had changed into when he arrived home are strewn on the floor, leaving him only in his boxers. It’s been so long since he’d been able to sleep comfortably, he realizes. Amy emerges from the bathroom in an old pair of leggings and a police academy sweatshirt that she’d had for years. Jake recognizes both, and everything feels familiar.

It’s as dark as it can be for a New York City apartment, with all the lights in their home off, but the hustle of the city still illuminating each other’s faces. Neither of them can fall asleep yet anyways. Every time Jake shuts his eyes, Amy opens hers, watching him to make sure it’s real; he’s real. When Amy’s eyes finally flutter shut, Jake feels the need to stare at the intricate details of her face, trying to memorize them in fear of ever having to go a night without her again. Eventually, they catch each other staring, but they share a giggle and neither of them feels awkward.

“Amy?” Jake whispers, even though he knows she’s awake.

“Yeah, Jake,” she still whispers.

“Do you still want to marry me?”

She doesn’t know what to say. Should she tell him that she would give up everything in the world to have him by her side for the rest of her life? Should she tell him that marrying him has been the only thought pulling her through the last nine months alone? And the number of times the very same thoughts tortured her when she wondered if they’d really have to wait fifteen years? Should she mention that on many of the nights she spent with Gina they’d drabbled with an inkling of an idea of making a wedding binder?

Panic begins to cross his face and Amy gets the hint that she’s taking too long, so she settles on the most reassuring thing she can muster, “Yes, absolutely, of course.”

He releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding; he’s too happy to speak, so they lie in silence for a little while longer. Amy’s long fingers trace over her boyfriend’s face, ever so delicately touching the still sore wound above his eye. His right arm rests on her waist with his left one shoved under his three, fluffy pillows – they only gave him one in prison. They both alternate between uncontrollable smiles and a stream of tears, but they’re both almost unbearably grateful to be together again.

“Amy, can you hold me?” Jake asks finally.

She agrees without hesitation and he turns away from her, pushing his back into her body. Her arm drapes softly around his midsection, careful not to irritate the blackish-purple bruises that angrily blossom on his pale skin.

He’s in Amy’s arms, with her face buried in his neck and he is _home._


End file.
